Always Rely On Your Training
by NNNNsic
Summary: I'm calling this a fluffy drabble. I'm also calling it GSR.


Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, and I certainly am not making any money off this tiny story.

"You don't really think you have me pinned, do you?" His tone was challenging, with a touch of teasing arrogance mixed in.

Sara was undeterred and wiggled her bottom against his legs. "Hmm, I don't know. You're flat on your back, and I'm straddling you, holding down your arms. You tell me."

It had happened easily enough. She'd come over for an early dinner, an informal date of sorts—their fourth in as many weeks. Afterwards, the conversation was light as they relaxed in his living room. When Grissom unexpectedly tickled her on the couch, she reminded him that she was trained in weaponless defense. His immediate scoff spurred a short wrestling match that ended with them both panting on the floor. Despite his weak attempt at pretending to fighting back, she had him in is current position under her.

"You've misinterpreted evidence," he began as she loomed over him menacingly. "For instance, perhaps you should consider that the only reason I'm not moving is because of the view down your shirt."

Her wide-eyed, open-mouthed laugh was contagious.

Sara sat back, grinding her butt bone into his groin and causing him to grunt and wince. "I knew it. You're nothing but a dirty old man," she complained, letting go of his forearms.

"Oh, the truth comes out. You said I wasn't old," he reminded with a pout. It was one of the first conversations they'd had when they'd started dating. Right after she insisted that she _was_ still interested in him, she assured him the age difference was not a problem, nor would it ever be one.

"That was a comment on your character, not a description of your age."

"Hey, I never claimed to be anything but," he grinned, proud of himself.

Their breathing returned to normal, and they spent several seconds just staring at each other—until Grissom reached up and started systematically unbuttoning her blouse. Her shock morphed into excitement. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Improving the view." He didn't bother lifting his eyes, opting instead to stay on task.

"So, now you're suddenly expressing an interest in me physically?"

"I've always had an avid interest in your body," he replied simply, hitting the fourth button. Her face began to flush.

It wasn't that Sara was disappointed thus far, but the sluggish progress was beginning to make her a little crazy. To have him come this far—allow her to get closer to him, date her, admit his attraction, yet not allow the physical resolution she'd longed for for years was a new version of torture.

"You've never done anything about it before," she accused with a raised brow.

Grissom stopped unbuttoning and looked at her, trying to determine the extent of his error. Trying to keep things at a slow pace seemed like a good idea a few weeks ago. "I've kissed you," he argued.

"Eight times." He cocked his head, surprised that she'd kept a tally. "In a _month_," she added, sounding very much appalled.

"I didn't want to rush you," he explained, back to work on the last three buttons.

"You were moving so slow, I thought we were..." She paused when the last button was undone, swallowing hard, "…going in reverse or…something."

He wasn't listening to her at this point, too dazed by what he'd uncovered. "Wow..." With gentle fingers, he pushed her shirt open even further, admiring the sight of her pale skin and lavender bra, her perfect small breasts a treasure to behold.

When he wouldn't meet her eyes, Sara started to feel uncomfortable. "_What_?"

He finally looked up, a new tenderness in his expression. "Nothing. Just, wow."

Sara had had enough of being stared at. She leaned down and kissed him, and it morphed into something altogether hot and arousing. His arms came around her solidly, snaking up the back of her shirt. The hum and sigh of their passion was the only sound to be heard.

"Still want to take things slow?" she asked as she grabbed his hands and pinned them down again. Boldly, she teased his mouth with hers.

"I may have to rethink that," was all he managed in reply. He flipped them over and delighted in her excited squeal.

He was trained in a few things, too.

THE END.


End file.
